


Where the Heart Is

by SmolGooDragon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts(?), Family, Gen, Nightmares, No Spoilers, Team as Family, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-07 10:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12839643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolGooDragon/pseuds/SmolGooDragon
Summary: Lance has graduated from the Garrison at the top of his class, and will be leaving for a mission to space in a few weeks. He's happy to be with his family and everything is going perfectly, but he feels like there's something he can't quite remember... like something's missing.





	1. Return

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been a WIP since about May this year, but I finally managed to do the idea justice in writing it up! The entire story is finally ready to go, so chapters will update every other day. Hope you enjoy, and if you do, please feel free to drop a comment! If you'd like advance updates on my writing, request something for me to write, or just to scream into the void in general, my writing blog on Tumblr is @smolgoodragon. Thank you!

~~~~

Lance absently rubs his thumb in circles against the strap of the bag slung over his back. He scuffs his shoe against the polished floor of the airport, glancing from side to side. He's a bit nervous, that much is evident, but his heart is fluttering with anticipation. 

 

_...They’re coming, right? They wouldn't just forget to come pick me up- _

 

“LAAAANCE!”

 

His semi-concerned frown immediately melts into an excited grin, and he quickly shoves his luggage aside before holding his arms out wide in order to catch the blue-shirted blur racing towards him. 

One powerful tackle hug later and Lance is on his back on the airport floor, giggling along with the small child draped over his chest. 

“Is it just me,” Lance chuckles, lifting his head slightly off of the floor, “Or did you stronger while I was gone?”

The boy grins triumphantly at Lance. “I did! Do you wanna see?” Without waiting for Lance’s response, he quickly rolls off of the taller boy before curling his bicep and shoving his arm close to Lance’s face. “See?”

Lance blinks in surprise at the sudden movement but grins as he sits up. “Holy crow, yeah! Heck, at this rate, you’re gonna be way stronger than me.”

The boy stares at Lance in wide-eyed wonder, gasping softly. “You really think so?”

Lance hums before tapping his chin. “Weeell, it would take a lot of training. I mean, the regimen at the Garrison was pretty tough, not gonna lie…”

The boy’s face briefly drops, but then he quickly brightens. “I’m gonna train super extra hard and do... “ He pauses, his brows furrowing as he thinks, before suddenly clapping his hands together.. “...Like, a  _ hundred _ pushups!”

Lance’s face lightens up in amusement, but before he can respond, a familiar voice calls from the distance.

“Lance! Damien! Up, up, off the floor!”

The two boys instantly jump up in response at the commanding tone, but Lance’s grin doesn’t waver. “ _ Mama! _ ”

 

A dark-haired, portly woman is coming towards them, her pretty face lit up with a smile. If not for the crow’s feet threatening to wrinkle her fair skin, she wouldn’t look a day over thirty. Her face is one that he’d especially missed during those long nights at the Garrison, a face not done justice by the weekly video chats and the occasional pictures from home.

Lance meets her halfway as she strides towards them, immediately pulling the shorter woman into an enthusiastic hug.

Her bright, blue eyes crinkle as she returns the embrace, grinning delightedly. “You finally made it home! Here I was, thinking that the Garrison was never going to give me my son back.”

Lance snorts, smirking a little in response. “Aw, well you know, I  _ am _ in pretty high demand these days… Best pilot ever and all, you know the deal.~”

The woman snorts and teasingly cuffs the side of Lance’s head. “Oh, you hush. Don’t let all that fame get to your head, or we might just have to send you right back to… oh, what’s his name… Iverson?”

Lance mockingly clutches a hand to his chest as he pulls away from his mother, a mortified look on his face. “You hurt me, Mother. You would send your own son to face certain death at the hands of the Devil?”

She snorts and rolls her eyes, absentmindedly offering her hand to Lance’s little brother before moving along. “I would, if it meant teaching you a thing or two about modesty. Now come along; I have lunch waiting at home, and I don’t want the dogs- or your father- getting into it before we get there.”

Lance snorts and grins, quickly following after his mother.

 

_ It’s good to be home. _

_ It’s like I haven’t seen them for years…  _

 

\---

_ There are alarms going off, lighting up the darkness with periodic, ominous flashes of red. _

_ His heart is thudding, but he can’t see, or move, and everything hurts- _

 

_ “-ance! ...Up! Pull u-” _

_ “...goin…... crash-!” _

 

_ “LANCE-” _

 

\---

 

Lance’s eyes dart open, a low hiss escaping his lips as he abruptly sits up. A quick scan of the room tells him that he must’ve fallen asleep on the living room couch.

He huffs quietly, rubbing at his sweat-slicked forehead. His head aches terribly, and his lips feel uncomfortably dry. He quickly fumbles around in his pocket for lip balm- he always keeps some handy because if there’s one thing Lance hates, it’s cracked lips- and it’s then that someone rests their hand on his shoulder.

“Lance?  _ Estás bién _ ?”

Lance blinks, popping the cap back onto the lip balm as he glances up. Once he realizes that it’s his mother, he smiles up at her, trying to ignore the twinge of pain right between his eyes. “I’m fine, Mom. Had a weird dream is all.”

 

_ Right. Just ate lunch, took a nap, that’s it. The jet lag must be trying to kill me, geez… _

 

Lance’s mother hums, sitting on the couch beside him. She keeps her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “Was it a nightmare?”

“Well, that’s the weird thing,” he says, brows furrowed. “I can’t really remember what happened in it…” Lance pauses before shrugging. “Something about flying, I think. I must be having war flashbacks from Iverson’s awful flight simulator drills.”

The woman snorts. “Oh, I’m sure they weren’t  _ that _ bad, Lance.”

“Um, no. They were pure torture.” And with that, Lance feels himself launching back into the swing of things-  _ yep, there we go, recovering from nap hangover _ \- “Iverson is an evil, evil person and on the day he retires, I’m throwing a party. Maybe in space.  _ Hopefully _ in space, so I can laugh at how he told me I would never be a successful pilot.” He sniffs disdainfully.

 

His mother has to stifle a laugh. “Well, saying he was wrong is a bit of an understatement.” Her smile spreads into a grin of delight. “Here you are, graduated at the top of your class, and off on an exploration mission in a few months…”

There’s a pause. Something in her grin changes, a hint of sadness creeping into her gaze. “Have I told you just how proud of you we all are, Lance? You’ve done so well.”

 

Lance briefly falters at that, sensing the change in her tone, but he quickly smiles in response. “Yeah, you’ve told me that in almost every video chat,  _ mama. _ Thank you.”

 

She snorts, pulling him in for a hug. “Because I’m  _ very _ proud of my son. But… we’re going to miss you a lot, when you have to leave again.”

 

Lance huffs into her shoulder, glancing off to the side. “I’m going to miss you all, too. And I won’t be able to call nearly as often, ‘cause. Y’know. Space. But I’ll be okay, I promise!”

 

His mother sighs, patting his shoulder before pulling away from the hug and standing back up. “I know you will, I just… we just worry. But I know you’ll have a fun time out there, and that’s what’s really important- that you go out and live your life.” She takes a deep breath before tapping her fingers together. “For now, I’m just happy that you’re home. Now, what say you come and help me do the dishes, mm?”

 

Lance smiles a little before groaning loudly, forcing himself up and off the couch.

“I’m home for like an hour and you’re already making me do chores?”

 

Instead of turning around and answering, she rolls her eyes and continues on towards the kitchen. Lance hums and follows along, attempting to shake off any last remaining traces of exhaustion… and an odd sort of disorientation weighing down his movements.

 

_ Probably just jet lag, that’s all. _


	2. Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance notices something strange.

_ Someone is there. _

 

_ Well, he’s not entirely sure if it’s a someone. It might rather be a  _ something _ , and he’s not sure which option is more unsettling. _

 

_ He’s sitting on the beach, staring off into the lonely night horizon. The sky is full of a billion stars, and, somewhere in the distance, he can feel the presence moving around, searching. _

 

_ Searching for him? Maybe. _

 

_ Something about it makes it feel like an invisible hand is insistently tugging at his hand, much like his younger siblings when they wanted to show him the snake they had just caught- but when they got there, the snake was already gone, and their grip would loosen on his hand before they pulled away, whining as they looked around for the creature that was certainly already long gone. _

_ This tugging at the strings of his mind feels a lot like that. Strong at first, but the grip quickly fades away, slipping from his fingers. _

 

_ As the feeling passes (he swears he feels a foreign sense of frustration in his head- the thing is  _ pissed  _ that it can’t keep a solid hold), the surrounding beach, too, begins to leak away, swirling like water going down a drain until he’s surrounded by nothing but darkness, and- _

 

**_B A N G !_ **

 

_ “...ing down…! Ca… yone… ear me?!” _

 

_ Lance feels his heart thudding in his chest, his breaths picking up rapidly- and he’s then aware that he’s just on the cusp of a dream, about to wake up- _

 

_ “LAN… WATCH OUT!” _

 

\-----

 

Lance’s leg involuntarily kicks, automatically waking him up in a cold sweat. His eyes snap open wide and he stares up at the ceiling, trying to regain his bearings.

 

After a minute, Lance smacks his lips- almost looking  _ offended _ at the rude awakening, before huffing and rolling over to side-eye his alarm clock.

 

_ 3 AM. Great. _

 

He rolls back over to stare at the ceiling, a pout on his face as he debates whether or not to leave his bed- but in the end, thirstiness wins out, and he reluctantly worms out of bed. 

 

Across the hall, down the slightly-creaky old stairs, through the living room, and finally, into the kitchen, where he can now claim his prize of a nice glass of cold water.

 

He fumbles around in the cupboard, unwilling to turn on the kitchen lights and blind his poor eyes, reaches for a glass, and-

 

_ Hol… im stead…  _

 

_ Don… want him… aking up. _

 

Lance cringes away from the cupboard, his eye twitching.

“Wh. What the…”

 

A long pause.

 

He wearily runs a hand over his face, grumbling to himself as he wipes away a thin layer of cold sweat.

“‘M more tired than I thought,” he mutters to himself, reaching once more for a glass- and, having successfully obtained said glass, then proceeds to move over to the sink.

Having finally succeeded in his arduous quest, Lance stumbles over to the couch and sits down, sighing heavily.

As he idly sips at the water, it occurs to him that something might be a little… wrong, here. He’s experienced jet lag before, but never to the point where it caused weird dreams and- potentially- auditory hallucinations. 

_ Is this a normal thing, or is this a thing I should actually go and talk to a doctor about?  _ He muses, chewing absently on his lip.

Once he finishes the glass, he moves to stand up again… but the glass slips from his hands, and before he can catch it, the sound of smashing glass is echoing around the house.

 

“Shit.” Lance grimaces, and-

 

_ You… diot!... Was the… ast dose we… _

 

Lance stumbles, shaking his head uncertainly.

 

_ Is it just him, or is the room looking a little hazy…? _

 

_ Something cold is pressing against his back. He feels heavy, really… really heavy. His head is aching, it’s pounding at the back of his skull, everything aches- _

 

“Lance!”

 

He blinks, startled, before looking up the stairs. His mother comes rushing down, narrowly avoiding stepping on the broken glass as she makes her way to him.

“Lance, are you alright?”

He opens his mouth to speak before frowning, still feeling a little… off.

“Y. Yeah, I’m okay, just… must’ve tripped? I accidentally dropped the glass, I’m sorry-”

 

She lets out a sigh before running her hand through her hair, now paying more attention to the floor as she carefully makes her way to the kitchen. It takes her but a second before she comes back out with a dustpan and broom. “Mm, accidents happen. It’s alright- just glad you’re not hurt.”

Lance awkwardly steps back as she begins cleaning up the mess, hesitantly eyeing the room.

It seems mostly normal, if not for the weird haze on the edge of his vision. When he focuses on his mother or on a certain spot in particular, they come back into focus, but reality itself feels like it’s slipping away from him, almost like…

 

_...A dream? _

 

As soon as the thought enters his head, a sudden wave of pain crashes over his body, forcing him to stumble and groan.

 

_ This isn’t right. _

 

_ This isn’t  _ **_real._ **

 

And this time, when the voices from seemingly nowhere return, he practically latches onto them- and when he does, the room goes almost completely dark.

 

_ How much long… til we can get another dose? _

_...ot… ure. Is he waki… up? _

_ He’s stirri… need to hurry. Don’t wan… aking up when we’re so close. _

 

The effort of focusing on the voices makes a wave of exhaustion crash over him, but he can’t stop- something isn’t right, and he  _ needs _ to know, has to know what the hell is going on, and-

 

The something returns. He can feel its call, its urgency- and this time, he thinks he can connect with it if he focuses hard enough. He’s not sure what it is, but it feels so familiar- in a good way, he’s pretty sure. Like an old friend he hasn’t seen in years.

 

But then there’s a hand on his shoulder, and Lance looks down, blinking.

 

It’s his mother; she’s trying to talk to him (“Lance, what’s the matter? Lance? Lance, listen to me!  _ Escucha! _ ”), but… when he focuses on her, the presence in the back of his head’s grip grows weaker. After a moment of hesitation (she’s not going to be pleased about this), Lance mumbles what he thinks is a ‘sorry’ before he forces himself to focus all of his attention on the presence.

 

The room goes completely pitch-black.

 

And suddenly, his searching ‘hand’ is met with a firm, tangible grasp, the connection weaving through him, so ridiculously familiar that it hurts. 

 

It all comes flooding back to him, then. They’d been on a mission, battling against a Galra fleet. The connection, it was the blue lion, searching for him.

 

_ Why searching? I was right there with- _

 

The alarms. The muffled, staticky cries of the others, yelling at him, yelling  _ for  _ him-

 

_ Blue got hit once- no, hit  _ twice.  _ Pidge was yelling to look out when I was spiraling down. _

 

And then there was the matter of the other voices, the ones he’s not familiar with. Something about ‘doses’, and ‘waking up’, those were repeated a lot.

 

Finally, there came the conclusive, crushing realization.

 

He hadn’t just crash-landed, no. He should be with the others by now, recovering on the castle, but instead, he’s surrounded by unfamiliar voices, is in pain, and  _ they don’t want him waking up. _

 

He and Blue have been captured by the Galra _. _


	3. Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets in a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support and for reading this far! Please comment if you enjoy the story so far- it helps to keep me motivated to write in the face of approaching finals. ;P

When Lance wakes up, he doesn’t move, doesn’t open his eyes, and tries hard not to unbalance the rhythm of his breathing. He doesn’t want to alert anyone into realizing that he is now very much conscious, and also very much  _ panicking _ .

From what he can sense, he’s flat on his back on some sort of table. It’s chilly and uncomfortable, and his whole body aches- but mostly his head. He thinks it feels a little sticky around his hairline, which probably isn’t a good thing.

 

And someone’s there, moving nearby. He can hear their footsteps, their irritated mumblings. Fortunately enough, it doesn’t seem like they know he’s awake. Not yet, at least.

 

_ Good. I have some time. _

Waiting and judging that the footsteps have moved away a bit, he hesitantly cracks an eye open.

The room is fairly well-lit with purple light strips along the walls- because apparently the Galra Empire can’t seem to find color variety in their lighting- and, standing in the corner, is a soldier. Lance quickly closes his eye again as the soldier starts moving around again (bored, apparently).

 

His breathing picks up as he ponders his options- he’s missing the top half of his armor so he’ll be far more vulnerable to any attacks, but the one good thing in this entire situation is that the lower half of his body is covered… meaning he has access to his bayard.

Unfortunately, the room isn’t that big, and he’ll have to move quickly in drawing his bayard and shooting the Galra soldier. If he’s even a little bit too slow, if the guard has time to close in on him and fight him at close range, he’s done for.

 

_ Deep breath. _

 

The guard idly moves away again.

Lance’s hand is already near his built-in bayard sheath, and it’s just a matter of summoning his weapon, whipping upright as fast as he can, and then shooting accurately at the guard.

 

_ Okay. Count of three, Lance. _

_ One. _

 

_ Two. _

 

_ Thr- _

 

And then the door slides open. Lance goes deathly still, alarm bells ringing in his head because now there are  _ two _ Galra to deal with, now his chances of getting out are way worse, and-

 

And they’re coming directly towards him.

 

“About time,” a voice grumbles from the far end of the room, presumably the first soldier. However, no response is given from the one that had just entered the room; they merely continue forward until they’ve stopped right near the table that Lance is on.

 

Finally, the second Galra speaks up, but… their voice doesn’t sound right. No, it sounds like a whisper, raspy and hollow.

“Silence. You were the one who dropped the other syringe in the first place. Now…”

Lance’s breathing picks up as he hears a glass clink.

 

_ Syringe. Injection. _

They were going to put him back under- and he doubts that he’ll get another chance at escape if they do. Without another thought, Lance’s eyes snap open and he lunges forward, just focused on  _ shoving _ .

There’s a hiss and the sound of the syringe crashing to the floor, a yell of alarm, but Lance doesn’t look. No, he makes a wild grab for his armor and summons his bayard, firing recklessly at the spot where he’d heard the guard last. Everything is spinning and he can’t make sense of much, but he  _ does  _ hear a scream- he’d hit his target. He stumbles backwards and away from the table, his eyes wild with fear and pain and sheer  _ adrenaline _ as he takes in the room.

 

There’s a soldier on the ground, bleeding profusely from his thigh and screeching profanities in Galran. Shattered glass and some weird, glowy fluid on the floor. Some weird IVs that had been attached to him had been ripped off and were now dripping all over the place, hanging loosely. And…

 

Oh.

 

_ Oh no. _

 

**_DRUID._ ** **_BAD. VERY BAD._ **

 

Lance fires at the druid in a panic, but they vanish out of the way, reappearing  _ much closer _ to him than before- too close. He scrambles away from it, trying to run, to make  _ some _ kind of distance between himself and the creature. 

Unfortunately, it moves too fast- and Lance is still weak from whatever it was they had injected into him earlier. Its claws slash open his exposed shoulder and he screams in agony, tumbling to the floor. Where his hands roughly hit the ground, the shattered glass from the syringe further slices up his hands and the impact forcibly knocks his bayard from his hands. 

 

Lance makes a blind grab for the rifle, but it’s already too late. The druid is already upon him, lifting him up by his neck with inhuman strength. He struggles and thrashes, attempting to kick behind himself at the creature- but to no avail. Its grip is unrelenting and he  _ can’t breathe _ , he’s panicking, his head is on  _ fire _ -

He only vaguely realizes that the strangled whining he hears is coming from his own mouth, but it doesn’t last for long. 

His hands, scrabbling to try and pry the druid’s clawed fingers from his throat, are forced to stop moving. 

Soon after, his arms fall loosely to his sides.

 

As his vision swims and goes dull, he swears he can see a vague flashing of red, on and off, the sound of an alarm… but he can’t focus for much longer before he finally succumbs to unconsciousness.

 

\--

 

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he finally comes to, his mind slipping in and out of reality. He thinks he hears muffled yelling, a piercing shriek, a crash.

His eyes crack open, but he can only see a blurry, red and white figure approaching.

 

_ Fade out. _

_ Fade in. _

 

A voice. Movement- but movement hurts. He doesn’t like it. 

 

_ Fade out. _

_ Fade in. _

 

He’s curled up on a floor, but a different one, this time. No purple lights, just… white.

His stomach drops as the area around him shifts, hears the sounds of an engine.

A sense of regret upon throwing up on the white floor. It had looked nice and clean. Oops.

 

_ Fade out. _

_ Fade in. _

 

A lot of color blurs; first red, then yellow and green, black, pink, orange… it’s all swirling together.

Movement, again. He doesn’t like the movement.

He throws up again, but not much comes out.

Voices, lots of them. Panicked. Worried.

A teal-blue light, a sudden jolt as cold clouds of vapor wrap around his body, a screen is in front of his face, he’s looking down at all the colorful, humanoid blurs standing and watching him,  _ worried  _ about him…

 

And, with a soft exhale, his consciousness finally slips away, letting him sink into a deep, dark slumber.


	4. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has a talk with his mother.

“Ah, good to see you’re finally awake, sleepyhead.”

 

Lance blinks blearily as he sits up, tiredly noting the sound of waves crashing in the distance. He glances over to his side, perking up as he sees his mother sitting there… but the smile soon fades as he realizes that the entire area, and even his mother, are hazy and glitching out.

 

Lance huffs quietly, looking out to the ocean. His little brother and sister are splashing each other and arguing over who had built the biggest sandcastle, while his older sister is working on perfecting her tan not too far away. His father is fairly far from the shore- probably swimming from the beach to the buoy and back as much as he can. His  _ papa _ always loved to show off.

 

“...None of this is real, is it?” Lance mumbles quietly, a sad look in his eyes.

His mother- no, the illusion- rests her hand on his shoulder, her smile just as warm and comforting as Lance remembers. “It’s as real as you make it, Lance.”

He blinks in response before eyeing the beach and biting his lip. “...Did I get put under again? Because, uh. If so, I might need to figure out how to wake up again.”

 

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Tell me, what was the last thing you remember seeing?”

Lance pauses, frowning in concentration. “The druid was…” Another pause. “No, wait. After that, I think… I think I saw Keith? And the red lion, and then the others, so-”

He slumps, sighing heavily in relief. “So I’m back on the castle, I think. Maybe in a pod.”

Lance’s mother smiles, reaching her hand up to ruffle Lance’s hair. “I think so, too. But don’t worry; you’ll be waking up soon enough, and they’re probably all waiting on you.”

Lance gives a half-hearted snort, leaning into her touch. “Eh, probably. Best and most handsome pilot ever, and all. They’re probably lost without me; you know how it is.”

A stifled snort escapes her lips-  _ god he forgot just how much he missed her laugh _ \- and she pushes at his shoulder teasingly. “Ohhh, I’m sure.”

Lance smirks before hesitating, eyes widening slightly as the surrounding beach seems to phase in and out of existence for a single moment.

His mother pauses. “Ah, time’s almost up…”

 

There’s a moment of silence between the two, and Lance takes it all in, from his mother to the sounds of his siblings shrieking, to the sight of his father being a show-off and his older sister groaning that it’s too hot.

And then he leans forward, pulling her into a tight hug- it feels just as real as any hug she’d ever given him when he was back at home, before this entire universe-saving business had started up, before Voltron.

He barely even registers the fact that his shoulders are shaking like leaves in an autumn breeze, tears welling up to overflowing in his eyes.

“I missed you so much.”

 

She squeezes his shoulder, softly pressing a kiss to his temple. “I missed you too, sweetheart.”

 

Lance bites his lip even harder this time, pressing his face into her shoulder miserably. “But it’s not even the real you. You’re just… a drug-induced hallucination. No… no offense.”

She snorts, pulling him closer. “None taken. But that’s why you need to work extra hard to save the universe as soon as you can, alright? So I can get to see you again… for real, next time.”

Lance nods breathlessly, his chest constricting tightly.

“And you had better take care of yourself, or I’ll come directly into space myself just to tell you off.”

A choked, teary giggle escapes Lance’s lips. “O-okay,  _ mama _ . I promise I’ll come back safe. And I’ve… I’ve been keeping up on my skin- and hair-care, I promise. I don’t look great right now because I… kinda crashed my giant space lion, but. I’m taking care of myself. And the others are taking care of me, too.”

She huffs. “Good.”

The world around them seems to fade away just a little more, and Lance notes with a hint of dread that he has to focus harder just to keep his mother in his sight. 

She sighs, seemingly noticing the shift in reality. Then she pulls out of the hug, holding Lance at arm’s length by both of his shoulders.

“Lance, have I told you just how proud you make me as a mother?”

He lets out a soft, choked laugh. “Every single… every single video call, yep…”

She smiles warmly before pulling him back in and kissing his forehead. “Good. I’m so proud of you, Lance. You’ve grown up so much over the course of a year… and I know it’s been hard. So, so tough- not even eighteen yet, and fighting a war against an ancient empire.” A tinge of sorrow crosses her face. “Fighting a war that shouldn’t have even begun in the first place.” 

She closes her eyes for a moment, sighing. “You’ve already encountered so many dangers, seen so many horrors already, and this war isn’t even close to its conclusion- in fact, it may only just be beginning. You will see many, many things- horrible things, beautiful things, and sights that no human has ever seen before or will see again…”

Another pause. She opens her eyes and smiles up at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “But if anyone can do it, it’s my boy.”

 

Lance feels a heavy weight pressing down on his heart, threatening to make it break into pieces- but he smiles weakly in return. “Thanks, Mom.”

 

The world around them is slowly fading to pitch-darkness, the sounds of his family becoming mute. He squeezes his mother tighter, gritting his teeth.

 

_ I don’t want to let go. Not yet… _

“I love you so, so much,  _ mama _ .  _ Te quiero. Te quiero mucho. _ ”

 

She’s slowly becoming less and less tangible in his arms, her presence fading rapidly. But he can see her smiling, can hear the smile in her voice. 

 

_ “...ove you… too… always prou… of you…” _

 

And then he finally wakes up.

 

\--

 

When Lance opens his eyes and tumbles from the pod, he’s soon overwhelmed by the rest of his fellow paladins and the Alteans- he at least expected a bone-crushing hug from Hunk, but he didn’t expect to get a hug from Pidge (for having such thin, wiry arms, her hugs are almost as strong as Hunk’s, good lord), nor did he expect the heartfelt pat on the back from Shiro- the man’s eyes are gleaming with sadness and pride, so much pride in Lance, so much relief that they managed to save Lance from further torture-

 

And he 100% did not expect the reluctant, awkward hug from Keith.

When Allura and Coran join in on the hugging, for once, Lance doesn’t immediately attempt to flirt (it can be saved for later). Instead, he tries to stifle the fact that his eyes are welling up with tears as he smiles. 

 

They all catch him up, naturally; on how he’d taken a hit and then got shot down again, the crash, the kidnapping. That he’d been captured for three days, and they’d found him on the fourth after storming the Galra fleet when they’d finally managed to trace the blue lion’s signal (“reactivated all of a sudden” they say; Lance has a sneaking suspicion he knows exactly when and how the lion began broadcasting a signal- when they’d finally reformed the connection), and how they’d managed to haul Lance to the red lion with minimal fuss. He’d been in the pod for two weeks with a head injury (not a concussion, thankfully), several deep gouges from the fight with the druid, the glass shard slashes on his forearms and hands, and various other injuries induced by the rough crash- but otherwise, it could have been worse, relatively speaking.

 

He was alive and here with the others, with a few cool new scars to show for the entire ordeal, so that was a plus. He even bursts out laughing later that night, but can’t explain why, other than the fact he’s just so  _ happy _ .

 

Happy to be alive, happy to be with his friends.

Happy to be sneaking food to the mice, to be able to properly shower and eat dinner.

 

And now, more than ever, he’s determined to fight hard in this war he was unknowingly drafted into; he has to keep the universe a safe place for his family back at home, has to keep making them proud. And even if it was just an illusion, he likes to think his real mother would have given him her blessing, too.

 

So he’ll carry on, he decides.

 

No matter how rough it gets, no matter how homesick he is, he’ll keep fighting… for the sake of his blood family in their disheveled house on a small, grassy hill, and for his weird, slightly-dysfunctional family here, in a futuristic, massive spaceship castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I enjoyed writing it, and thank you for reading this far! Comments and kudos would be much appreciated if you liked the story and would like to see more.  
> \--  
> My writing blog on Tumblr is @smolgoodragon; feel free to drop by there if you'd like to see my writing progress, plans for upcoming works, or if you'd like to leave a request for what I should write next. Thank you again!


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